Locked & Loaded
by Kinjiru
Summary: It had taken the crew weeks to convince their captain to celebrate that one day of the year, but one word from Donquixote Doflamingo and the Heart Pirates' plans are reduced to a last priority. Not that they couldn't manage a compromise.
1. Mission Accepted

**_I_**

The next island in their route was a summer island, or so Law was informed. The pirate captain would have normally met the news with distaste, but the lateness of the year gave him some small measure of hope in his luck.

The Heart Pirates' adjustment from North Blue's frigid weather to the Grand Line's erratic one had been a hellish experience; it had not boded well for the crew's health. Their first stay in a spring island alone was one riddled with hay fever, heat rashes and sore throats – an ordeal that took them a good two weeks to recover from. Autumn islands were more bearable, but even their summers were still a searing affair. Their second island had been so, and although they had grown some tolerance to the heat by then, it didn't make the feel any less wretched.

They had yet to land on a summer island in their travels and they had all dreaded the day their log pose led them to one. But when the news was broken to them one day in the chilly month of October, their past worries seemed to be no more than the troubles of an overanxious child.

The first sign of the island was an expansive coral reef that broke the monotony of the dark emptiness of the deep. Sea life shifted from sea monsters masked in darkness to schools of fish and shallow sea predators. It was during their trip through it that Trafalgar Law decided that they cover the last leg of the trip on the surface.

The Heart Pirates gathered in the pilot room during their ascent. Only the pilot and his two co-pilots disturbed the crew's heavy silence. All attention was trained on the control room's many flashing screens; many held various view of the outside, as seen through the eyes of strategically placed video denden mushi around their submarine. Their true purpose was to aid in underwater navigation, but at present, they were little more than glorified television sets.

Schools of fish were quick to veer away from their ascending ship, disappearing into the hazy gloom beyond the range of the submarine lights. Their slow rise from the depths came to a halt when they broke through the surface. The ship rocked unsteadily as it tried to retain the balance it once had underwater, but in just a few minutes, the submarine bobbed up and down in a steady rhythm with the waves.

"Who's on deck duty?"

The Heart Pirates crew stirred from inactivity, and turned to the speaker. Trafalgar Law returned their inquiring glances from the captain's seat, absently playing with his the trailing ends of his nodachi's sageo.

"Inuwashi and Michi, captain," was Penguin's prompt reply.

"Here, cap'n," the first of the two men chirped as he jumped from his seat. He smirked with half-pursed lips and tipped his orange visor to his captain before jogging out of the room.

The other was slower to respond; he eased off his chair and stretched his long limbs. Rolling wide shoulders, the man craned his neck to Law. "Need the paint job checked too, captain?" he asked with a snigger.

From across the room, the Heart Pirates engineer looked up with narrowed eyes; whether it was due to his surly nature or his lack of sleep, no one was sure. "This sea is too rough," he said. "We'll do that at port."

Michi sniggered again, as if there was something innately amusing in the reply, then stalked with careless strides to the control room door. He bowed his head to duck under the frame, but a sudden lurch of the ship had him bumping into it regardless.

"Ow." A snigger, and blithe steps walked on. The engineer sighed and muttered under his breath.

"Peace, Zatou," Law purred to his crewmate.

His first concern now covered, the captain took his nodachi from beside him and strode over to the pilots, two of whom were dictating notes for the third to record. He leaned against the backrest of one of their seats and asked, "How many miles to shore?"

"If the maps from the last island were accurate, about thirty miles, south thirty degrees east." The logsman's voice was a deep monotone that seemed detached from the stoic, effeminate face hidden under his flat cap. "Though it remains to be seen whether the winds sing our tune."

"It should be closer to twenty degrees now," Bepo corrected. "But Kitsune's right, captain." He paused and looked to Law. "Should I check if the winds are in our favor?"

"Confirm our coordinates while you're at it," the captain replied.

With a quick bow, the Heart Pirates navigator hurried to his work. Law was quiet for a while, contemplating his options. "What do you think, Seiuchi?" he asked the pilot as he straightened up.

The man mulled the thought over for a while, making quick glances at the dials on the control board as he did. "Depends on how soon you want to dock, captain. With this ocean, we'd be lucky to reach that island today with just currents and winds, even with tailwinds. The batteries are about spent too."

"Very well then, approach at six knots," Law bid, already walking away.

"Aye, captain." The latter saluted off his striped black and yellow bandanna to the departing man.

The Heart Pirates captain arrived at the upper deck to a gust wet with drizzle and spray. The main doors had been left ajar to replenish the air supply, and through them, he could see that it was a gloomy day. Gray clouds hung low in the sky and the dark waters was a choppy seascape. It was a rough day to be out at sea, but it was a cool one – a small compensation for the unfavorable sailing conditions.

"Hiya, cap'n," Inuwashi greeted with a tip of his visor and a wide smile as Law stepped out of the main doors. "Watch'r step. It ain't quite dry yet."

"Calm sea out, captain," the other man on deck added through a snigger. The ship continued to bob to the surge of the waves as he spoke. Michi sniggered again after a particularly strong wave, then stalked away with swab and bucket in hand.

Law nodded to both men in silent acknowledgement of their work. He closed the short distance between the doors and the deck railings, where Bepo was surveyed the surrounding seas.

"How fares our course?" the captain inquired.

The polar bear looked up with a small start, for he had not noticed his approach. Then with a slow turn of his head to the sky, he answered, "Something's coming this way."

Law glanced askance at his crewmate's field of vision. An inky blot of an avian was flying towards them. Even from a distance, it looked unusually large; its wingspan alone seemed larger than the height of an average man. A large pink bow tied around one of its legs fluttered with each slow flap of its wings.

The pirate's good mood drained from his features. _A messenger from Joker_, he thought as he leaned against the railings, nodachi propped up against his shoulder. This was his first message from Donquixote Doflamingo since he entered the Grand Line, and he was both surprised and excited, giddy even, but not quite. His latest bounty increase must have reached him; for him to recognize it enough to send a message, this was probably of great importance.

With a wry smile, Law addressed his navigator. "Carry on. It'll be a while before it gets here."

"Aye, aye, captain. Um… well, the wind's coming from behind us, but it's ten, fifteen degrees off our course. The undersea current we rode to here will be curving away from the island within the next twenty miles – What then, captain? Oh, uh… we could try sailing with the wind and correct our course every few miles – Seiuchi's steering? But the batteries are low? Then we should steer out of this current as soon as we can…"

When the enormous avian finally caught up to their ship, it landed in the middle of the deck, a drenched and dripping giant of a vulture. Law swept gray eyes over it, finding it was more humanoid than its distant silhouette betrayed. The knowledge of its fabricated power's origin only inspired disdain in the Surgeon of Death. He made no effort to welcome it, and instead, gave a prompt order.

"Dry yourself elsewhere." He shifted his sword grip to where the sheath met the guard. "My crew's barely finished drying the deck."

The newcomer veered first its head, and then its body, to face him, stance casual and smiling through its beak. "Oh come now, little Law," it started, stretching out the nine feet span of its wings. Already, a puddle was forming at its feet. "Your puny little crew should be helping _me _dry instead. These pets of yours can't possibly be more important than a messenger from Doflamingo-sama himself, eh?"

Whatever else it might have said was begrudgingly kept to itself when 'little Law' popped his blade out of its sheath. Its wings were quickly folded back to their place.

"What does Joker want?"

The vulture clicked its curved beaks together in irritation. "Arrogant brat," it muttered as it craned its neck to undo the bow at its feet, though it continued to glare at Law.

The pirate captain narrowed his eyes, watching it with a scowl that could not contain his contempt. Annoyance glinted in the messenger's dark eyes. The bow came undone with a few tugs and fell with a heavy, metallic ring onto the wooden deck. It was there for only a second, before the vulture flung it straight for the brunet's head.

A glowing blue dome burst forth over the deck, and with it came a sharp crack of leather against wood. Law stood in the heart of it, sword drawn and eyes still locked with his attacker's. A bucket had flown in from his right just moments before to catch the mass of fabric thrown at him. As he watched Bepo catch the vessel in his peripheral vision, a self-satisfied smirk tugged at the edges of his lips. He sheathed his blade with deliberate slowness for the insulted vulture to watch, to hold its attention long enough for a two hundred seventy pound drop kick to catch it from behind.

A squawk and a great thud rang out. The captain watched Michi wrestle the creature nearly two feet taller than him to submission as he returned to his relaxed perch against the railing. Smug triumph had taken the place of his scowl, but his mind was wary. There would be time to relax when the stranger was sent off.

"Ya okay, cap'n?" Inuwashi's worried tone invaded Law's adrenaline-clouded thoughts. "Wusn' sure 'f ah got all the wat'r out 'fore ah kicked tha' bucket."

He nodded in reply. "Oi, Bepo. Would you mind handing me that?"

The bow offered to him was nondescript save for its weight. Law reached into his hat and retrieved a scalpel to cut its knots with. The ruined ribbon fell in a pile over the vulture man's beak, for which the avian cursed at him. A metal box lay under all the layers. This, too, was forsaken for its more important contents, and was discarded in the same fashion as the bow.

What remained in the Surgeon of Death's hands was a thick black envelope. The wax seal that secured it immediately caught his eye, for stamped on it was the Sky Demon's Jolly Roger – the ornately rimmed slashed smiley. With bated breath, Law pealed the letter open. Gray eyes skimmed through the message. The smile in the pirate's features evened out into blankness as he finished.

"Michi."

The pirate looked up from his choke hold. "Yes, captain?"

"Let him go. Inuwashi."

"Cap'n?"

"Gather the crew."

Law flipped through the rest of the sheets in his hands as his crewmates did as they were told. Only when Doflamingo's messenger was once again on his feet, his ruffled feathers being smoothed down by the same snickering man who had restrained him, did the pirate captain look at him again.

"Joker'll hear about this Law," the vulture man hissed through its beak. "You'll regret crossing me."

"After he disposes of a weakling like you, I guess," the addressed replied evenly. "Tell him I'll do the job."

* * *

_A/N: I suppose it goes without saying that I do not own One Piece. I do, however, own the many fan characters that have and will appear in this fanfic. Originally a Christmas-themed one-shot, this fic will be a three-part short story that will, hopefully, be done in time for a very special day in two weeks. ;D_

_A link to the cover art can be found on my profile._

_**EDIT: **A number of things have changed since I started writing this; it's become a five part part story. XD_


	2. The Lay of the Land

**_II_**

"EH?!"

"No complaints. I've given my word."

"But, but – we had plans tonight. You gave your word for that, too, captain."

Trafalgar Law frowned at the reminder; he had forgotten all about it. Celebration was probably the most telling way to refer to it.

The crew had dropped him hints for it the past month, hoping he would suggest the event on his own accord. But he had taken little notice of their shenanigans. They often had strange ways of coping with boredom and stress, and with their last pirating escapade to occupy him, he had completely missed their point. Seven days before, however, the crew took matters into their own hands. An easily subdued coup, some guilt tripping and three quarters of the crew begging later, and they had the party they wanted in the works.

With this latest development, however, it was clear – to Law, at least – that their plans would have to be put in the backburner for a while.

Seven men and a polar bear all looked to him with worried faces. The captain felt a tug at his conscience, but held his steady gaze from the head of the table.

"This is for Doflamingo-sama." His voice was slow and grave as he reminded them.

"And we were just in time to dock at port, too," Shachi whined, more to his crewmates than to the pirate doctor.

"I wanted to finish off our North Blue wine tonight," Penguin put in as he nodded to his friend; the rest murmured their agreement. Law's lips tightened into a thin line.

"Crew." The Surgeon of Death clasped his hands together and leaned against them. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen up."

The Heart Pirates quieted down at his hushed yet even tone. When eight pairs of eyes had trained their attention on him, he continued.

"Joker needs us is to pick up an item for him." The crew paled at the nickname. "Then we are to hand it over to Wei Yingzi."

_The boss's little shadow, huh? That guy… What's _he_ doing in the Grand Line? Didn't think we'd be seeing him again._

His men's whispering, all brimming with half-remembered vexation and disdain, didn't escape Law's ears, and he couldn't help but feel the same.

Wei Yingzi. One of Donquixote Doflamingo's many liaisons with the Underworld. He was also Joker's main agent in North Blue. Or had been. Law didn't care enough to ascertaining the hierarchy of his superior's ranks. What did bother him, however, was that he was to meet the condescending imp who had endlessly pestered him in his home sea again. But he brushed the thought away for more pressing matters.

"And these –" Law set down a thick wad of sheets on the table before him. "– Are our mission details."

+.+

The sun grinned down the crescent-shaped island through a thin curtain of clouds. A southbound wind blew at intervals from its northern bay to relieve its inhabitants from the sweltering heat. It whistled up the island's lone town, sending aflutter curtains, canvas overhangs and a green and pink newsboy cap pulled low over a boiler suit clad man's brow.

Shachi sighed when the gust blew past. Good luck never had any love for the Heart Pirates, he though as he mopped up the glistening layer of sweat on his face. One moment they were sailing in rough waters under a decidedly gloomy sky. The next, they were baking under an unforgiving sun.

His eyes wandered to the clumps of dark clouds that ringed a quiet ten miles of sea around the isle. Shachi couldn't help himself; he flipped off the weather abnormality. Bepo had called it a Grand Line-warped eye of a storm, and Seiuchi, the Lady Fate flirting with their crew again.

He lingered on the memory, remembering his crewmates' comical reactions to the weather until his peeved mood lifted. At the very least, the autumn season was a windy one. It made his trek through the town's sea of heated roof tiles a bearable affair.

The Heart pirate's rooftop travels ended under the tallest building in town – the town hall judging from its banners and the impressive crest above its doors. A turret with four balconies sat on top of its central unit like an odd hat. If he weren't mistaken, he would have a perfect view of the whole place from there.

Shachi skirted the building for a ledge to start his climb on, and found it in the form of a low balcony just a few inches above his reach. With an easy jump for the railings, he closed large square hands around its decorative pillars.

In another quarter of an hour, Shachi was waltzing around the town hall's turret, looking from one large balcony to another. The building's gaudy architecture had been rife with niches perfect for his climb, almost like Seiuchi's Lady Fate compensating for her earlier prank. The only thing he had to worry about was avoiding the sights of the passersby below, which the trek from the port to the town hall had given him ample practice for.

The boiler suit-clad man stopped at the northern balcony, where the town laid sprawled out before him. He pulled off his hat and fanned himself with it. Its contents rattled in their secret pouches.

"There really isn't much here, is there?"

The whole town was built on a gentle slope that came to an abrupt drop behind the town hall, and there the sea crashed in a steady rhythm against a shallow rock cliff. The town hall, along with a church, a Marine base, and the mouth of the main street, formed the four cornerstones of the plaza below him; large houses spanned the distances between them. Down the hill from the plaza meandered a wide street. It cut across the sea of buildings splayed over the hillside and ended at the long stretch of port that lined the island's entire bay. Two large mansions sat in the heart of each side of the divided town.

The maps sent to the captain had captured the trade town's mundane setup quite charmingly, Shachi liked to believe, though no one could blame the man for having the crew double-check everything.

The island map had looked like a croissant, one nearly broken through at the middle with five squares littered around the crack. At least now Shachi had confirmed the map. Hopefully, the rest of his crewmates scattered around town would be coming to the same conclusion about their jobs.

Before he could continue admiring the view, the sound of heavy but casually paced footsteps echoed in the small space. Shachi jumped with a start, cramming his head into his hat.

"And up here you will find a most remarkable view of our humble town," a jolly voice went as the Heart pirate searched for a foothold below the balcony. But even with his sunglasses, the noontime sun made the contours of the building's whitewashed façade's impossible to see. "Mister Wei, was it?"

The Heart pirate gritted his teeth and sprinted to the southern balcony. If these people really were here to see the town, it would be the last side they would check.

+.+

The plaza was packed for the autumn festival bazaar. Rows and rows of stalls laden with colorful produce and merchandise lined the large flat space. Shoppers native and foreign alike crammed the spaces between. Left and right, bargains were offered and prices were haggled, while children played nameless games underfoot.

It was a rich hunting ground for thieves if Kujira Zatou ever saw one.

The Heart Pirates engineer-treasurer glared down at the man who had just grazed him, scaring the poor fool who dared return his glower. That the sun was making his pale complexion a ruddy red or the blue of his eyes a dark contrast to the golden ring around his pupils probably had a hand in it. And maybe the fact that he towered over everyone in the crowd for that matter. But he preferred it that people stayed away; he had bigger things to worry about.

Like dinner's main course for one. Their last minute change of plans had stolen a large portion of their cook's time for preparing the night's feast, and though Inuwashi had offered to finish his assignment as quickly as he could, the captain overruled him.

Since he was planning for the dinner anyway, the captain had said, he would rather not bank on a sketchy possibility.

Zatou absently scratched the long scar that cut across his cheek. The captain was right, of course. They _had_ to buy the meal. The cook needed what little time he had left for side dishes. The setup would assure them a good dinner, but not without spending beyond the night's allotted budget. Well, that was what the emergency fund was for.

Actually, no. No it wasn't, but the treasurer tried not to think about it. He continued weaving through the stalls, giving everything remotely resembling prepared food a once over before deciding they were all too overpriced for their funds. The bazaar was no place for a bargain.

Retreating to the houses around the plaza, Zatou found refuge from the heat haze in a shaded alley. There, he adjusted the knot tying the side flaps of his green deerstalker cap. Though he couldn't tie them any higher than he already had, it did keep his hands busy as he contemplated his next course of action.

"Hey mister."

The Heart pirate's glare shot to a side. Whatever pert warning he normally gave unwanted strangers died in his throat.

"Can I help you with something, miss?"

"There ain't no missus here," the youth decked in clothes too big for her slowly said as she jerked her shoulders down to a slouch. "Spare some change for a poor boy, mister?"

"Boys your age wouldn't be wearing a coat in this heat, and no, go bother someone else."

"Lovely purse you got there. Nice and fat, like it'd have change for poor boys."

He didn't grace her with a reply. His 'purse' was in fact his medical kit, for only fools displayed their money in plain sight, and girl or not, he had no patience for swindlers. The pirate turned to leave.

It was to the masquerading teen's disadvantage that her boots were of a heavy leather; their deep thuds against packed ground betrayed her running footfalls. Zatou side-stepped her charge and caught her by the scruff of her shirt, before pulling her back into the alley.

"Look," he said, scratching at the scar on his cheek. "Go back to your daddy, little girl. I don't know if this is some strange rite of passage in your island, but I can see your friends behind those crates."

Panicked yelps and hurried scuffling erupted from further down the alley.

"No one put me up to this." The youth, now dropping all pretense of a street drawl, glared up at him. "I'm going to take your money. Just you wait and see."

A pause. "Yes. I'm sure."

"And when I do, you can go looking for your purse in the Lord Edmund's trash. They wouldn't keep _that_ ugly thing in their treasury."

The Heart pirate had every intention of leaving until the familiar name was spoken. Lord Edmund was one of the two merchant leaders of the town and was Joker's associate: the very same man the captain was to meet later that day. A quick decision was made as he scanned her small determined face.

"Has anyone ever told you no one likes being paid with money stolen from them?"

The girl eyes went wide, looking him all over, and she gasped when they fell on the Jolly Roger on his chest. She bowed her head, the callous confidence draining from her frame.

"I-I beg your pardon, sir," she started, already backing away. "I didn't mean any harm. It…it's just that collection day's fast approaching. And business isn't going too well–"

"And you think we want your dirty money?"

There was a quiet moment as she glanced up, training her stare at the emblem on his clothes.

"You…you liar!"

+.+

"Ya workin' fo' Lord Edmun' too, sur?"

The large heavily tanned fish vendor gave a hearty laugh, clapping veined hands over his rotund belly.

"Pipol hir ol pey Edmund or Marius, noy. Wen yu hab no pement, no selling alawd. Eksep da pipol der." He jabbed a thumb to the plaza up the street. "But dey pey da meyor and den dey go apter, ano, mebbe six deys."

"That so, sur? Well, m' crew ain't stayin' too long. An'thin' we shou' look ou' for?"

"Ip yor nice, no prablem. Jas kip awey pram de pipol in da polo en da jaket. Okey?

"Will do, sur."

Inuwashi nodded to the man, his lips curled in a small smile. He took his purchases from him and added it to the growing bundles in both his calloused hands.

The Heart pirate continued up the main street, giving polite smiles and 'thank ya kindly's to the hawkers who approached. All the while, he swept the throngs of foot traffic with searching hazel eyes, just as his captain told him to. To see how they could tell apart the town's two merchant houses' men.

Purple ties and golden cufflinks for Lord Edmund.

Red cravats and silver brooches for Lord Marius.

Blue ascots for Marines. Some with pins of silver, others of gold.

They were everywhere, talking to the vendors behind their goods, passing pouches to each other or just standing in street corners. Gold glared at silver and silver sneered at gold. The rickety wood and canvas stalls of the wet market, and even the shops farther up the main street, all had their colors; the west was splashed with white and the east with yellow.

Inuwashi looked away as a group of Purple Ties glared at his staring. He turned his back to them and pretended to inspect the produce of the stall next to him. He stayed there a while, shifting the weights in his hands and shaking or nodding his head when he thought appropriate. He also flashed a smiled at the lady vendor watching the wares.

"Excuse me, sir. Those fine gentlemen up there tell us you're bothering them."

The Heart Pirates cook casted a quick glance behind him. Blue Ascots with golden pins closed in on him, but slowly. Inuwashi pursed his lips as he shook the fringe of hair under his visor over the right side of his face. The Heart Pirates Jolly Roger tattooed there would be all too easy for marines to recognize. He clenched his fists around his bags of shopping.

"Nah, sur. Ah was jus' lookin f'r — Hey, a' those… ba' the god o' booze. Ah reckon those a' gotta be the smartest-lookin' taters ah eve' seen."

Hazel eyes fixed themselves on the marine's hands and feet as the Heart pirate briskly strode towards a large crowd of market goers. Shopping time was over.

+.+

"Well, that was the last one," Penguin sighed as he stepped out of the easternmost bar of the port.

Wei Yingzi had not been at the meeting place, just as the captain predicted. Penguin wished he had been; for once in their long and strained acquaintanceship, he wished the Underworld liaison would not give him any grief. But he was missing, and being the one tasked to communicate with him, the Heart Pirates first mate had to find him.

What made the search so taxing was that it was so easy to overlook his target. Even Penguin, who knew him, could miss the diminutive mousy man; the chances the locals were gossiping about him were as small as Yingzi himself. All the talk he overheard were of the coming tax deadline, a scuffle between Houses Edmund and Marius, the latter losing money on bad investments, and the bazaar on the plateau.

He did, however, narrow down his search to the establishments at port. They were Yingzi's favorite haunts in North Blue, so he assumed he would find him in one. He asked about him at every shop and tavern, being as colorfully descriptive as he could. He had vented for the most part, but it was not all completely without relevant purpose.

For Wei Yingzi was no fighter. In an island where there was even the smallest possibility of physical confrontation, he would surely bring along a band of loyal men. Probably ones he could string around his little fingers, but strong and loyal men nonetheless. If the man himself was eluding him, his men were his best bet at finding him.

Which was why, as he stepped out of the last building he checked at port, he wasn't wholly caught by surprise when seven snarling men blocked his way.

"Heard you were talking trash 'bout our boss, boy."

Penguin grinned, curling and uncurling his fingers by his sides. Of course they would have heard, he thought. He made enough fuss during his search for the whole port to think he had a vendetta against the man.

"Yingzi. You mean?" The cornered man subdued his wariness under his smile. "I was just looking for that guy. Do you guys maybe know where he is? See, my captain—"

"You think the boss has time for trash like you?"

"What?" he asked after a short pause. "Is he mad or something?"

"I'm gonna rip your mouth off, boy!" Three men charged forward with their leader's grim declaration.

Penguin, too, moved back closer to the tavern doors. He watched their every step from under the yellow visor of his cap, anticipating the moment they were just a few feet shy of him, before leaping for the rafters of the tavern roof's overhang. His heartbeat reverberated in his ears as he dropped down on them, springboarding off their bowed backs.

The dock's rotting wooden planks cracked under Penguin's boots as he landed behind the group, but the boiler suit-clad man was quick to skip off of it. He spun back to face his attackers, just in time to witness one of them stomp his foot clear through the broken plank. On instinct, the pirate finished his spin with a kick to the man's temple. The latter was out before Penguin could put both his booted feet on the ground.

Another attacker followed close behind the downed man. This one jumped clear over his comrade and swung a machete at the Heart pirate. Penguin yelped, stumbling to one side. The other man landed nimbly on his feet.

Penguin was on his feet and running in a moment, but not before another man joined the machete-swinging man. This one wielded a massive club, and he and his companion raced after the escaping man as the latter sprinted for an alleyway between a tavern and a shop.

"Don't think you could get away!" the smaller and faster of the pair screamed.

The pirate cursed through gritted teeth. As much as he would have wanted to, as much as all his instincts compelled him to, he couldn't leave; he still needed to find the group's boss and this was his first lead of the day.

But with two armed men after his head, he was at an obvious disadvantage. The other four were sure to catch up soon, too. If there was one thing fighting out at sea taught him, however, it was how to use the terrain to his advantage. And the stacks of crates and barrels in the alley were just what he needed.

Up the crate stack against the tavern he ran, with the blade wielder stumbling up after him. The other trailed them from below. Penguin slowed his pace only long enough for the pair to catch up, then jumped to the shop side's wall.

The club wielder swung at him on reflex, but being so far down, missed him completely. The Heart pirate steadied his dark aviator's hat on his head as he propelled himself off the shop. His chaser on the crate stack had followed his movements closely. By the time the white-clad man landed behind him, he was ready with his machete. He swung his weapon down on his prey.

Penguin had not even looked at him since his jump; he jammed his fingers into the small space between the wall and his attacker's crate, then pulled it to a side with all his might.

Two men and a crate went flying into the air. Yingzi's bodyguard crashed into the wall as he fell while the immobilized man below crumpled under the crate's momentum. But that was as far as his luck was going to favor Penguin that day. He wasted too much time.

As he fumbled with his landing, two pairs of strong hands grabbed hold of his arms and smashed him into the ground. A third person locked his legs together soon after.

"Not so tough now, are you?" the group leader's voice taunted between great huffs of breath.

The captured man thrashed in their arms. He continued to struggle even when a booted foot trapped his head between the pavement and its heel.

"You know what we do to punks like you?" the same voice growled as the pressure on the back of his skull intensified. "When we're done with you, you'd wish you were dead."

The weight let up for a moment and returned as a swift kick to his cheek. Penguin hissed at the stinging pain.

"I'm just…" he managed to gasp, "looking for–"

"Who said you could talk?" The boot stomped down on his temple. "Now what was it I said I was gonna do to yoURK–"

"Oi!"

In the short period between his head being freed and the crash of splintering wood, the Heart Pirates first mate caught a glimpse of his crew's Jolly Roger against a stark white background. Roars of fury erupted around him as the hold on his legs and right arm lifted.

Penguin didn't think stop to think. He wheeled around his pinned arm, ignoring the strain it put on his shoulder, and managed to invert his position. The ground to his back now, he used the last of his spin's momentum to roll backwards, aiming a knee at his last restrainer. The latter had been quick to notice and relinquished his hold, jumping away in the nick of time.

An arm hooked itself under Penguin's before he could get up, then half-hoisted and half-7dragged him to the nearest wall. He looked to the crewmate who had come to his rescue. Shachi grinned up at him.

"Need some help?"

* * *

_A/N: So it turns out this fic isn't going to be a three-part fic after all. Halfway through writing chapter 2, I realized I wanted some elements to be resolved at a later time. Hopefully, I would still be able to reach my personal deadline._

___Please let me know if there are vague or confusing scenes, especially in the action scenes. I love writing them but I'm not too confident about their clarity. I'd love to know if I'm going about this the right way._

_I had a lot of fun (and help!) writing Inuwashi's POV. I'm still working on writing his accent, so hopefully it would be more consistent in the future. The fish vendor guy, though, was most definitely an exaggerated Filipino accent. _

_Here's how it would read normally in case anyone's curious._

"Pipol hir ol pey Edmund or Marius, noy. Wen yu hab no pement, no selling alawd. Eksep da pipol der. But dey pay da meyor and den dey go awey apter, ano, mebbe six deys."

["People here all pay Edmund or Marius, boy. When you have no payment, no selling allowed. Except the people there But they pay the mayor and then they go away after, um, maybe six days."]

"Ip yor nice, no prablem. Jas kip awey pram de pipol in da polo en da jaket. Okey?

["If you're nice, no problem. Just keep away from the people in the polo and the jacket. Okay?"]


	3. Piling Mysteries

**_III_**

"Now how did you manage that? You. Penguin. Get into a fight with four guys?"

"Seven. I already beat three of them before you came around."

"O…kay…and?"

"Never mind that. I still don't know where that little shadow is." Penguin grumbled with his confession. "At least we know he's here. His men'll probably tell him about us when they wake up."

"If the bar owner ever lets them go." Shachi laughed. "Good thing we hightailed it outta there before they found us– Ow."

The first mate glanced at his crewmate at the sudden interjection, and smirk when he found him rubbing his midsection. "Some support you are. Getting more injured than me."

"Hey, hey. I was distraction, remember? And I took out the leader, you know."

"Dude, even Bepo would pass out if you dropped a kick on him from a roof."

"Yeah, so? I still beat him. So how's your head?"

"I've been better."

"Ha! This day just gets weirder and weirder. First this island, and then this mission. Speaking of, I was at the town hall earlier. It had this tower. Turret, whatever. Anyway, I was there, and then these guys came along…"

As Shachi chattered on, a soft voice whispered in Penguin's ears. "My, my. Little Law's crew made such a mess," it went. A cold chuckle followed after.

"…I couldn't get back up, so I just went off…"

The Heart Pirates first mate looked around with a start. His friend continued to talk up a storm, unmindful of his abrupt stop. On either side of Penguin were the dark display windows of closed-up shops. His reflection stared back at him with wide, searching eyes.

+.+

The men were on edge, Seiuchi noted as he watched from the second floor window of a tavern. Across the street, Lord Edmund's men were flanked at every fifty odd feet around their employer's estate. Shotguns poised on their shoulders, they snapped at any passerby who dared look through the fencing.

The barkeep told him they were usually a jumpy bunch, always expecting trouble from their rival house; but today, they were just plain mean.

Whether it was because the eighty million beli bounty head Trafalgar Law was going to pay them a visit that day or some other reason, the Heart Pirates pilot didn't know. Not that he wanted to make any guesses, really.

If the Lady Fate would have them be preparing for his captain's arrival, then so be it; her plans were not for him to uncover. And he hadn't seen them bring in anything suspicious that they might use against the Surgeon of Death, though there was nothing they could throw at him that would probably hurt the doctor. Seiuchi continued to play with the small polished opal hanging from his bracelet, whispering small tributes to the Lady Luck. It was almost time.

A large group of men in suits with purple ties flooded out of the estate's gates. One by one, they approached the guards, accepted their guns and traded places with them. The pirate waited another half an hour before making his move. As he checked his captain's file on the Edmund mansion one last time, he squeezed his opal trinket between his fingers for good luck.

Down the street, the Heart pirate skirted the estate till the back gate, keeping his head down and his bandanna pulled low. The guards were all new and the old ones nowhere in sight, just as he had hoped; the replacements had grown restless in their watch by that time and were bullying the passing locals.

Seiuchi turned up the collar of his borrowed clothes in an attempt to further cover his face. The clothes fit him comfortably, thank the Lady Luck. They were a drab enough combination for their owners not to recognize them, too. Hopefully, drab enough for the guards not to pick him out in a crowd. Being one of the newer members of the crew, he needed all the time he could get for all the sneaking around. Which was probably why the captain gave him one of the easier jobs.

It had been going well until he reached the back gate; things were just as they were in the papers. But the gate was definitely newer and more fortified than what he had been told. At a loss for what to do, he asked around. A long, awkward interview with the shop owner closest to the gate revealed to him that a scuffle with House Marius did in the old one. The pirate would have dug around some more if his boiler suit hadn't caught the guard's attention. He had very nearly been chased away. Seiuchi decided to wait out the current batch of guards and return on the next.

Though to be perfectly honest, he didn't know what he was supposed to do now. He had never done this sort of thing before, so he had no idea what he had to do when things didn't go as planned. He just had a nagging feeling that he shouldn't go back to the ship without doing something about his discovery.

Seiuchi settled himself outside a restaurant close to the gate, scrutinizing it. But in the glaring mid afternoon light, it was hard to keep his eyes from wandering; all the yellow was hurting his eyes, too.

He turned his sight into the shade of the restaurant, scowling while they adjusted. He was embarrassed to find that there was someone in his direct line of sight. As the stranger adjusted the brooch on his red cravat, however, the Heart pirate was relieved that the man had not noticed. The latter was occupied with the small man before him, who was probably the first pale man Seiuchi had seen that day. Foreign too, judging from his clothes. With all the black on him, he was probably baking under all the layers.

Seiuchi squeezed the other ornament of his bracelet, a quartz crystal, and thanked the Lady Fate for giving him more sense. He returned to his watch on the gate, memorizing its façade.

+.+

Three hundred forty-eight. Three hundred forty-nine. Three hundred fifty.

Kokkyoki Kitsune spun round twice before halting his slight form to face the sea. His boot met the pavement with a quiet tap. He pushed his sunglasses further up the bride of his nose, then pointed to the horizon.

"Seventeen," he said, reading the number on the crosshairs of his shades. The din of the busy road nearby filled the air in the short span of time before he corrected himself. "Fourteen."

The Heart Pirates logsman drew a notebook from his pocket and threw it in the air. He spun round again, pulling a pen out of his hat as he caught the small book. Pages rustled with each turn of a page, and after it followed a sharp point scratching against paper. Kitsune finished his note taking with a flourish and snapped the book closed; he returned his writing paraphernalia to their places.

Fifty steps later, the showy performance was repeated.

There was actually no real need for the cartographic survey, as the town was rich enough to have a good map of itself. But it was Kitsune's hobby. The tempo of his even footsteps, creaking of rusty wagon axles and even the distant screeching of an angry mother – he loved listening to them. During these escapades, he fine-tuned his ears to pick out their notes.

And improved his cartography skills, of course. He didn't have Bepo's impeccable bear memory and sense of direction, so he had much to make up for. That didn't stop him from basking in the musical cacophony of the world whenever he could. He would have even more time to immerse himself in it by tomorrow. When the mission was over and they had but to wait for their log pose to tune in on the island's imperceptible humming.

After he found a suitable map for their records, maybe. And checked how his field measurements fared against the actual thing. If they were too far off, he might have to hear from the navigator first. He would content himself with the deep thrum of the submarine's intricate machinery and Bepo's low drone until he was allowed to go.

"Oi, Kitsu. Din' think ah'd findja hyeer."

At the familiar tone, Kitsune crossed a leg over the other, set his left hand on his right hip and veered his head to the voice's owner. His free hand held his shades in place as, with his head angled down, he watched Inuwashi approach.

"Ishi." The speaker extended his left limbs to his crewmate's direction, hand pointing and foot touching the ground with only his toes. "You're lost. The main street–" He drew circles in the air with his pointing hand then pointing to the east. "Is that way."

"Nah, am dun." He newcomer lifted his many bags of shopping for his crewmate to see. "Ran unto sum M'rines though. So am jus' hidin' hyeer for a bit."

Kitsune assumed a normal stance. With deliberate slowness, he hovered a hand over the Jolly Roger on his chest. "Hidden," he said. "Like a note in a score."

"Yoo make as much sense as a win'er flah onna hunney pah."

"As do you."

Inuwashi laughed. "So, are ya' dun with…" He looked around, lips pursed and eyes twinkling. "Ya' know?"

"That finale. Deserved no encores." But of course. The captain had said they could even do without checking on House Marius. Just in case, he was sent anyway.

"Hey, ah know tha' wurd."

"Goddamn those pirates! I'll kill them when I find them."

The pair of Heart Pirates stared at each other, unmoving, Kitsune with his perpetual poker face and Inuwashi with his wide-eyed, purse-lipped expression. The voice seemed to be just beyond the intersection they stood next to; on their other side, a long stretch of road was flanked by tall, bare walls. The nearest possible refuge was a door too far into the alley, and already the voices chorusing promises of death on all pirates were upon them.

In another moment, Kitsune shrugged off the top of his boiler suit and tied it by its sleeves around his waist; he tugged his pants out of his boots for good measure. His visor-sporting companion was brushing his fringe over his face tattoo. Hopefully, with the cook being in plain clothes, their crew's uniform would not be recognized.

Just as the Heart pirates took off their hats, a group of six men marched into the side street. Their heavy footfalls were careless and haphazard, their muttering harsh and grunts of pain aplenty. The pirates parted to let them pass. Kitsune leaned against the wall, hugging an arm across his waist as the fingers of his other hand pushed against the bridge of his eyewear.

"I hope the boss does them in."

"Yeah, he'll get back at them for us."

"Idiots. That's supposed to be our job."

"Yeah, tonight. Tonight we'll do them in."

"Quiet."

Kitsune was on the brink of pinpointing the accent in their way of speaking when the group – voices, footfalls and all – came to an abrupt stop. The largest of the men glared straight at him, and the rest following one after the other.

"What're you staring at, boy?" The man who silenced his fellows looked at him from head to toe.

The addressed man looked around him; all his escape routes were blocked, though probably more by mistake than by design.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

The Heart pirate struck a pose. "No, sir."

"Weirdo," one choked at his sudden jerk. "Must be a loony," another muttered.

"Um, 'scuse me, surs. Beggin' ya' pah'dun."

The group turned again, this time to the young man behind them. Between the ghostly pale boy they first confronted and this other one, whose tanned skin and russet-brown hair made him appear like the locals, they had very nearly dismissed the latter's presence. "Me an' muh buddy hyeer wuh jus' talkin'. Dun mean t' be a bother."

The leader looked from one to the other with a disbelieving glare. It made Kitsune queasy; the lie was too obvious. But for the first time that day, he was thankful for the unforgiving heat. Pink splotches were appearing on his exposed flesh in the unnatural way his melanin-deprived skin responded to the sun.

"We were just going," he said, adjusting his shades. It was as obvious as his partner's excuse, but it would serve his purpose. "My mother told me not to stay out too long."

When Inuwashi said nothing to back him up, he continued. "My skin." Silence still. "It's sensitive." His voice, if possible, was flatter than his usual monotone.

The group leader scowled down at him, unimpressed. Kitsune straightened himself to as tall he could manage and stepped forward, but it didn't threaten the larger man any more than a yapping puppy would have.

"Aw yeah…" Inuwashi finally spoke up. "Tha' skin thang ya wur bourn wyeeth." He even laughed, amused by his own slow register.

The leader grimaced at their antics and just walked away, his men following at his heels. "I'd mind my own business if I were you boys," he said over his shoulder. "Next time I see your faces where they don't belong…"

The last of the group still facing them cracked their knuckles. Two of them even pointed a machete and a club at them.

Kitsune relaxed when his immediate are was cleared, then spun to the center of the road. Inuwashi's face lit up as his crewmate paused. He quickly set his shopping down and jumped next to the other pirate to mirror his stance. With a tap to each shoulder, then a snap of their fingers, they pointed to the group.

"Will do," the Heart pirates logsman said, letting his shades slip a fraction before pushing them back up. His partner did the same though he had nothing on his face.

The group grimaced again and quickened their pace. Inuwashi returned to his purchases with a laugh. Kitsune watched the retreating group until they disappeared behind one of the nondescript doors along the alley. The door slammed close, its woody crash echoing for a short while after. The group's watcher returned his white flat cap on his head.

"Let's head back," he told his companion as he made a superfluous gesture to the submarine's general direction.

Inuwashi looked to the westering sun over the sea, strapping back on his own orange visor. "Yeah, leyts. This 'ere fish'll cook awt hyeer 'fore it ev'n meets a skillet."

+.+

"C'mon, Bepo. It's not so bad." A snigger. "See? We have shade out here now."

Bepo peered out from the quarterdeck to look at what his crewmate was talking about. Michi was at the center of the deck, where a table, a seat and a tent-like umbrella had been affixed. Under the table were the mechanic's tools and many cans of paint.

"Plenty of shade out here." He downed a glass of water as the polar bear watched. "Anyway, found a chip in the paint job."

If he could sigh and snigger at the same time, Bepo bet he would've done so then. He didn't like working alone, Michi had told him some time before; he usually forgot what he was doing in the first place. Bepo would help him if he could, but repainting needed more hand dexterity than he was capable. From chipping off paint, to the actual painting and down to the setting – he would just waste supplies. Zatou would probably hurt him if did.

"You could keep watch while I fix it," Michi's tone cut into the bear's glum thoughts.

The navigator perked up at the offer and ventured out into the deck. His crewmate was in the process of typing up the braided ends of his chullo's side flaps over his head. By the time Bepo reached the umbrella's shade, the man had tied the braids into bows.

"Just like Zatou, eh?" The Heart pirates mechanic pointed to his hat and laughed. He straightened his back and squinted. "Our fresh water supply is evaporating in this heat. What a waste. This isn't in the budget." The speaker broke into a fit of snickers. "So carefree that guy."

Bepo grinned. "You forgot to say fools."

"Oh yeah."

The mechanic refilled his glass and set it in front of the now-seated navigator. He gathered his painting things and bid, "I'll be at the rudder. Shouldn't take too long."

Bepo grunted in reply and slumped over the table, touching his nose to the cool glass. He wondered if Michi really did mean that his task would be quick or if it would be a long one. He didn't want to be in the heat any longer than was necessary; the lower deck was actually cooler compared to the outside.

But he knew he shouldn't complain; his job was easy compared to everyone else at the town. The captain had said he was too conspicuous, and that with a Marine base in such a small island, it was probably for the best that they not tempt fate. They could test their luck when the stakes weren't so high tomorrow. Bepo hoped it would a cool day, overcast maybe, since that was probably the best he could ask for in a summer island.

The polar bear sniffed the warm sea air and sighed. The low wind pressure of the surrounding rocky seas was making it hard for him to sense incoming weather conditions. At least the congested smell of fish, sweat, and salt that met them at port had cleared now. His nose could pick out an odd person or two nearby, with his instincts supplying their general direction. From a few boats away, he could smell a new catch of fish being hauled in; its fresh smell overpowered the musty fishy scent that had long saturated the wharf's wooden planks.

Just as he was enjoying the scents around him, the stench of paint attacked his senses. Bepo whined, covering his nose. Its sheer unpleasantness had the polar bear running to the bow of their ship, the farthest he could get from the smell.

Though he had been exposed to it for as long as the Heart Pirates had owned a steel ship, the navigator had never gotten used to it. It made his sense of smell act weird for hours after exposure. But since it couldn't be helped, he would just have to stay under the sun until he grew tolerant of the odor emanating from the stern.

In the meantime, the Heart pirate looked over the town. His crewmates were there somewhere, doing fine for the most part, but he was a little worried about Seiuchi. He hadn't gone to as many raids planned by the captain as the rest of the original crew; he hoped the man would manage.

He also wondered what Kitsune, his only crewmate who took orders from him, could possibly be doing at that moment. Bepo looked to the western side; his protégé had been sent there, getting a good look at Lord Marius mansion and his men's activity. Knowing him, he was probably already finished and was gallivanting around town. He hoped he would at least find a place to procure a map from.

A familiar scent registered in the bear's senses over the paint: it was one of grease, ink and mint. Bepo looked to the alleyway from which it came, and soon enough, the Heart Pirates engineer-treasurer strode onto the port. His usual scowl was just a tired crease on his forehead. His eyes didn't lash at him with their usual sting either when he hailed him.

Zatou returned a quick wave and lengthened his strides. As he neared in his approach, Bepo sensed an unfamiliar scent also moving in the same direction as his crewmate: one of steel, apprehension and anxiety. Danger signals went off in the navigator's head. He turned his eyes back to the alley his crewmate had come from.

A dark figure peeked out from beyond the corner.

Zatou's surprised face momentarily registered in Bepo's mind before he landed on the port's creaky planking. He rolled forward to break his fall, then kicked off the ground to propel himself to the alleyway.

A yelp reached his ears, and then light footfalls that faded in intensity with each step. Bepo reached the alley in time to see the dark figure already halfway down it. The Heart pirate gave chase.

Up the town they ran, between buildings, and at one point, in and out of a house. Bepo's prey left obstacles behind him whenever he could in an attempt to hinder his chaser, but the polar bear easily leapt over the barricades. This man's capture was important, the pirate felt it in his gut; he was going to catch him to figure out why.

As the chase progressed, it became obvious to Bepo that his target was as much a stranger to the area as he was. At intersections, he would skid to a stop and look wildly about before making his turns. With each stop the chaser closed the gap a little more, and when his target glanced over his shoulder, the latter grew more and more panicked.

Fifteen feet shy of him now, Bepo could see that he was a large man, much larger than the locals. His pale skin was a dark pink from the sun and the running. He yelped when he saw how close the pirate had gotten; he didn't even stop to decide on his next turn. He just dove to the right. Bepo was at his tail in a moment, determined to catch him by the next intersection.

The alleyway was empty before him. The Heart pirate rushed down it, eyes wide and panting hard. There were neither doors, windows nor anything to hide behind in the empty space; the walls were too high to climb. But there was no sign of the man he chased after.

The Heart pirate followed the person's scent until he came upon a puddle of inky black fluid, oil from the smell of it. His scent disappeared there, just like its owner.

Later, he would swear, that as he stood there in disbelief, he still heard the man's heavy breathing echoing in the narrow space.

* * *

_A/N: Two more chapters in just two more days... I hope I could make it. The next chapter will be a very short one, so hopefully, it should be out soon._


	4. Mission Accomplished?

**_IV_**

It was well past sunset but the twilight sky was still splashed with its colors – a very bright sky for an autumn night. Michi remembered October days to be shorter and darker in North Blue. Summers in this island were probably bright till midnight. Now wasn't that an amusing thought? Sleeping while there was still light?

From his place just beside the window frame, Zatou glared at him. Michi continued to snicker on the window sill.

"Focus," his partner chastised. "You could laugh later."

"Now that's just mean." When the man just scoffed in reply, the mechanic changed the subject. "Uchi was right. This place does have a nice view."

Zatou continued to glare out the window, but sighed when Michi continued to chat him up. His scowl softened when he did, if only from his annoyed scowl to his yielding one. "This drink isn't worth its price, though," the treasurer offered for small talk.

The Heart pirate sniggered. Everyone had been strung up about their 'mission' since they arrived. While he trusted his captain's judgment more than he ever did his own, Michi couldn't help but think that the 'plan' was borderline paranoia. He said so when they were being assigned their work for the day, and it was probably the reason why he was left on the ship that afternoon.

But at the same time, he didn't blame the captain for his course of action. Joker wasn't a very nice guy. When they had dealings with him, Michi often found himself hoping the man couldn't read minds. Even though he knew he couldn't and that it was impossible. Joker had that effect on people. Paranoia.

Within the hour, however, the Heart Pirates would be free of that weight; all that was left to do was to collect whatever it was the merchant associate had to give the boss. The mechanic and engineer had been sent ahead to see how the Lord Edmund planned to welcome their group. At the appointed time, the captain would arrive to receive the item and keep it until Yingzi came for it. Then, it would be party time.

Michi snickered in his excitement, earning himself another glare from his partner.

"So you bought chicken, right?" the giddy man asked to keep the light aura of their conversation. "For tonight?"

Zatou made a face, like the one he always wore when people asked for extra cash. "Yes. I was…swindled into it."

_As if_, the Heart pirate thought, laughing out loud. The man would sooner donate to charity than allow himself to get swindled. The engineer grumbled and wore a sulkier scowl.

"Anyway, the captain said he'll pick it up for us. Inuwashi will make the dishes to match it; knowing him at least three of them will be potatoes. Bepo and Seiuchi should be setting up on deck right about now–"

"And Shachi, Penguin and Kitsu should be at the bazaar." Michi grinned. "Stop worrying. Things'll get done, like Uchi's Lady Fate said they would."

"And the sooner they are, the better."

The finality in the surly man's tone had even his peppy friend grow quiet in the minutes after. They sipped their drinks and watched the estate gates; men in dark suits were starting to line the driveway, restless and wary. One minute shy of the meeting time, Zatou's den den mushi rang in its secret place in his boiler suit; the snail's face was set in a stony gaze as it asked for their report.

"There has been no suspicious activity, captain. Nothing beyond what Seiuchi has already described– The inside we can't account for, but your entourage is awaiting your arrival– About thirty, captain. No, captain, the Lord doesn't seem to be accompanying them."

_Now for the scary part_, Michi thought as an involuntary snigger escaped him.

It wasn't long before Trafalgar Law arrived at the mansion gates. Bepo and Seuichi accompanied him, with the latter walking very mechanically in his edginess. The Heart Pirates mechanic couldn't help but point it out to his partner, who gave a few nods but never took his eyes off their captain's group.

Zatou was just as tense as Seiuchi, it seemed. His grim face brought to mind the pilot's comical reaction to being assigned to accompany the captain to the mansion. So that he'd have more experience in the way of the Heart Pirates. The man had spent much of the afternoon tinkering with the ornaments on his bracelet and whispering many oaths to his two Ladies. It was by far Michi's favorite memory of his crewmate.

Soon enough, however, Seiuchi was going to find that their dealings weren't as intimidating as he made them out to be. Not with these small time groups anyway.

At least that was what Michi thought. He vaguely remembered Penguin and Bepo making a fuss about something earlier, but over Shachi, Ishi and Kitsu poking fun at Yingzi's men, he didn't hear the first two very well.

A sudden jerk from Zatou's direction snapped the man back to reality. The only thing that kept him from jumping from his seat was the engineer grabbing his arm with a crushing grip.

Narrowed blue eyes darter hither and thither over the mansion across the street; Michi's own dark eyes did the same. A pale blue glow emanated from one of the left wing's windows. The sight of it made the heartbeat echoing in the mechanic's ears pump a little faster.

It was a breathless minute before the glow ebbed, and even then the men were on high alert, awaiting any sort of signal from their captain to dictate their next move. Surely nothing so grave would render their crewmates unable to contact them. It was just a motley band of islanders after all, strutting around with guns for show and fancy suits –

A monotonous bubbling disturbed their disquieted silence. Michi nearly tore off his hat when he realized it was his baby den den mushi making the sound. He reached into the chullo and held the snail before his partner and himself. Its face contorted into disbelieving confusion when the pirates answered it.

"Hello?" Seiuchi's voice said from the other line.

"Zatou and Michi here," the engineer replied. "What happened?"

"Um…yeah." The den den mushi scowled. "We're…we're done."

The pair exchanged sighs of relief despite themselves. The snail's expression change again, this time to a smug smirk and haughty half-lidded eyes.

"Finish up your drink, boys. We're heading back."

+.+

"So how did you find you first pick-up job?"

Trafalgar Law watched his crewmate hold the package protectively to his chest, looking suspiciously at everyone around him. He couldn't help but chuckle; the man reminded of how his other crewmates had been a long time ago in North Blue.

"Oi, Seiuchi. It's not going to grow legs and run away."

"Can't give the Lady Fate any reasons to test us now, captain. This is dangerous; we should be running back to the ship right now."

The pirate captain, still smiling, held a hand to his pilot. "Give me that before you start hyperventilating," he chided. "In any case, being this close to the merchant Edmund's house, potential danger is at its lowest."

Seuichi seemed many years younger when he gave Law the small, wrapped box, but he still regarded everyone around him with suspicious dark eyes. The doctor thought it best to calm him.

"I wonder how Zatou and Michi took so seeing my Room at the lord's place," he mused aloud for the two pirates with him to hear. "It _was_ the easiest way to prove my identity, but what do you think, Bepo?"

The navigator hesitated before giving a sheepish answer. "The den den did look pretty spooked when they answered."

"Good thing those two didn't break in, right Seiuchi? That would've been awkward."

"Thank the Lady Luck," the pilot approved, looking about.

Law continued to observe his crewmate and decided it was for the best to give the man something else to do. His suspicious lookout was attracting more attention than the captain could tolerate.

The Surgeon of Death blamed their associate for his crewmate's paranoia. The merchant had inflated the importance of his package for Joker; he even took it upon himself to list off the dangers they might face. Most of them included the Lord Marius plotting some nefarious plan, the west-side lord being the cheating, scheming man that he was.

Law was willing to bet Marius would say the same of Edmund.

But the pirate captain knew there were greater dangers already on the isle. The merchant rivals paled in comparison to them, and they were far more discreet. They needed to be handled with more finesse than suspicious glares could offer.

"Seiuchi, go on and get the guys from the bazaar." He tipped his head to the plateau's direction. "Don't let them stall too long."

The addressed man looked to his captain, the determined look on his face never faltering. "You sure, captain?"

"Bepo and I will take it from here."

"Aye, aye captain."

With a nod and a salute, Seiuchi jogged off to the plaza. Busybodies made quick glances his way, seemingly wondering who this important captain was. Law walked away from the unwanted attention.

"Captain, I don't know if I could be much help," Bepo mumbled as he followed after him. "My sense of smell isn't back to normal yet."

"You're plenty helpful without your nose. Just keep your eyes peeled." The pirate looked around himself when he reached an intersection. "Now where did Zatou say that shop was? Ah, there it is."

The smell of roasted meat filled Law's sense as he stepped into the shop. It was a clean and brightly lit room, but had a bareness to it brought by the pealing paint job and the unfurnished space from the doors to the counter. A teenage girl sat alone behind the counters.

"Good evening, sirs," she greeted, nodding to the newcomers. At the sight of the Heart Pirates navigator, her dark eyes lit up in her small round face. She continued enthusiastically. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up three orders of roasted chicken." Law smiled at the teen as he gave her the receipt Zatou gave him. The girl gave a small 'oh' and jumped to her feet.

"I'll be right back!" she said, running into the back room.

As he waited, Law contented himself with observing the old posters tacked to the wall, most of which were rain-stained and yellowing in their age. Despite the shop's sorry condition, he could see that it used to be a busier place. The receiving room's size and old chairs and tables stacked in a corner were definite clues. All the while, Bepo sniffed at the air, his mouth half-open and nearly watering. A few times, he snapped his jaw shut and grumbled, no doubt frustrated with the paint-disoriented state of his nose.

The counter girl came back with three boxes, all stacked on top of the other and tied into a single package.

"Hey mister," the girl spoke up as Law paid for the last half of the order. "Tell the big guy with the scary eyes I won't do it again. Please? That I'll be good from now on."

Though the Surgeon of Death normally didn't take kindly to being told what to do, the girl's hopeful smile and her message amused him enough to allow it.

"I'll let him know," he said as he left.

The foot traffic had increased a great deal since Law left the streets. They came in waves from uptown, all noisy and some animatedly talking. But there was enough space between them for Law to brave the human tide.

Adjusting his hold on the food order, he affirmed the security of his package in a hidden pocket in his coat, then started weaving through the gallivanting groups. Bepo walked in a dreamy state behind him, downwind from the food.

A chorus of gasps from the crowd veered the pirate captain's attention away from his march. He looked about himself to find the people around him pointing to the western sky. His wariness was stayed for the moment; he had heard about this when he was wandering around town earlier, and he turned to the west to watch.

If the brightness of the evening sky from a sunset that occurred an hour before was an ethereal mystery, then the sight before him was definitely a spectacle. A single wide pillar of light stood on top of the horizon, a red, pink and orange contrast to the dark skies surrounding it. It shrank slowly into the skyline. The moment the last hint of the pillar melted into the sea, the entire western sky lit up in a myriad of colors.

Trafalgar Law felt the impact of the charge the same moment. A great weariness clawed at his limbs and dragged him to the ground. Seastone, his mind screamed.

His attacker was off before he even fell to his knees. Without checking, he knew exactly what had been taken from him. Bepo was by his crumpling form in an instant, frantically looking from his captain and back to the thief. He bristled in agitation.

"Bepo," Law gasped. "Call the rest. It's Yingzi."

+.+

Up in the town hall's single turret, a small pale man dressed all in black chuckling softly. The waxing moon shone its cold blue light over the town splayed out before him. The bright orb reflected off the northern balcony's polished tiles, making them glow like so many dark mirrors.

The man watched many white specks run about in panic below him. A yellow and orange pair rushed to where two white dots waited in place.

In the plaza, four of them gathered under the hall. They disappeared from his sight for a short while until two of them were boosted up the tile roofing. One made a clumsy beeline for the yellow speck's group, tripping now and again and hesitating between buildings. The other had started climbing the town hall's central unit.

Time for him to go.

The black-clad man skipped towards the largest floor tile of the turret and knelt on it. He touched his right hand to the polished surface and fell through it as he would through thin ice.

Not soon after, Kitsune leapt over the balcony railings. The crisp sound of frosting glass caught the Heart pirate's ears, but shook the distraction away. He spun around to look over the island, drawing out his own baby den den mushi from his boiler suit.

"Kitsune, confirming position. What are your orders, captain?"

* * *

_A/N: It seems I wasn't going to make it after all. ^^; Poor Law won't get the ending to this adventure on his birthday. That's okay, thought. I guess that means time to actually make a quality chapter. It should be out by this week though._

_Anyway, happy birthday, Law! May you continue to be awesome and have a canon crew better than I could ever imagine. :) _


End file.
